


Dust to Dust

by Theincrediblesulkmachine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Drabbles, Ensemble Cast, Everyone Is Important, Feel free to send prompts, Gen, General relationships - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Keith (Voltron)-centric, Relationship Study, Tags TBA As i Go Along, Team Dynamics, When Inspiration Strikes, each can be read on its own, marked complete cause it kinda is, my official way to overcome VLD writers block, no hate, strolled into my head fully formed, team voltron - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-13 12:45:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11185401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theincrediblesulkmachine/pseuds/Theincrediblesulkmachine
Summary: We are all made of the same cosmic dust.Series of loosely connected drabbles.





	1. If You Dare Come a Little Closer (Stay)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write for this fandom a while now, because im obsessed. Unfortunately, I'm swamped with my thesis these days, and writing is and always has been a slippery slope when i have actual assignments.
> 
> Clearly i have slipped.
> 
> This is basically a series of Keith-centric drabbles/ oneshots (or multi shots if the occasion rises), where I'll take my time to sort through Keith's pretty little stormy head, and the dynamics of relationships and interactions in Team Voltron Fam as i see fit. Updates may be irregular since this will be written on a When Inspiration Strikes basis. Romantic relationships are not currently the focus, and if ever they do become part of this series, i will not tolerate discourse on what is or is not wrong. I multi-ship and if you can't respect that, I'd rather you not say anything. 
> 
> That said, i hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave prompts in the comments/ my inbox. If they strike me, i will definitely take them up. 
> 
> Title from The Civil Wars- Dust to Dust.  
> Summary from S02e04.  
> Chapter titles from Rihanna ft Mikky Ekko- Stay

Lance felt an irrational surge of irritation, followed closely by a twinge he'd rather _not_ look too closely at, when the first thing Shiro asked him when he got to the bay was, "Where's Keith?"

He shrugged, a fluid motion that started at his shoulders, and rippled through his body. As if by moving enough he'd manage to shake off how much it bothered him.

How much _everything_ bothered him.

It had been less than a week since he'd piloted Blue to Arus. He was homesick, hungry and frankly overwhelmed at the task in front of them.

What bothered him most was still how he could never seem to escape enough of Keith's shadow to be seen as an independent entity.

Lance.

Not Keith. Never Keith.

Not good enough to be _Keith._

It didn't seem like he'd ever break free from that.

 _"_ Lance?" Shiro's voice was concerned, brow furrowed.

"Sorry, Shiro; _spaced_ out." Lance plastered a quick grin on his face, accompanied by an even quicker pun and wink.

Hunk grinned, and mouthed _good one._ Pidge groaned, rubbing slightly at their eyes, and Allura just shook her head.

Shiro's somewhat perturbed look evaporated into a half-amused exasperation. "Would you mind fetching him?

It was always so easy to get them to stop looking at him; it was always so easy for them to write him off.

He wished it wasn't.

"Sure thing, Shiro." Lance snapped a jaunty salute, "I'll get the Mullet-butt." and turned on his heel, to head back to where he had come from.

"Keith'll eat him alive." he heard Pidge say, as he left the room.

He felt his smile drop, and shoulders sag.

Stupid Keith.

Perfect Keith.

Ace Pilot Keith.

Second choice Lance.

The worst was, Keith didn't really deserve his ire; Lance _knew_ that. he couldn't help that he was naturally talented in ways Lance had to struggle for. He was a good guy; he wasn't conceited, or even arrogant; just quiet, socially awkward and a little too intense.

Keith couldn't help that Lance had looked up to him, for what seemed like most of his life, and he hadn't even known his name.

Keith couldn't help that Lance's long-time hero Takashi Shirogane liked him more.

Lance sighed, and put his hand on the panel to the Red Paladin's room, too pre-occupied to think of knocking.

The room was dark, and Keith was very still, lying fast-asleep on his stomach. Despite himself, Lance smiled at the way his hand was tucked under his pillow, and the other was under him, pinned in place under Keith's waist.

It was deceptively cute; almost childishly innocent, in a way Keith never was when alert; intimidatingly immaculate in posture and bearing.

Unfortunately, because it was Lance, he was biologically incapable of leaving it alone whenever he found something cute.

Lance felt his smile grow wicked; let's see how Keith would take to being woken by the dulcet tones of a scream in his ear.

* * *

 

The door opened with a near-silent hiss, and Keith's eyes snapped open with the disquieting realization that he didn't know where he was.

He stayed very still, tightened his grip on the knife perpetually under his pillow, and waited.

Footsteps quiet and even, soft breathing; Keith couldn't recognize any of it and he felt the hairs on his arms rise with growing wariness.

He heard a shakily inhaled breath, barely a few feet away, and he tensed automatically.

He thought he had made enough of a reputation for himself that everyone would leave him alone; picked enough fights that they'd know not to mess with him, snarled enough threats for _them_ to know not to sneak up on him.

Keith had thought he'd be _safe._

A hand, thin and long settled gently on his back, between his shoulder-blades, and Keith was in action before he even really decided to move.

He used his knees to flip himself over, onto his back, using the momentum to fling his right arm in a vicious swing behind him to grab his assailant- who let out a very surprised _oof-_ and jerked them unceremoniously forward. His left hand whipped out the knife and held it to the soft underside of their chin.

A very familiar, pointed chin.

With a rush he remembered everything. The Garrison, Shiro,the other cadets and the Blue Lion, piloting to deep space, the aliens, Red, the war.

_Voltron._

_"Keith."_ Lance said, visibly horrified; blue eyes wide, face barely inches away, utterly ashen.

Lance.

He wasn't _under_ attack. Keith was the one who was _attacking._

Like always; the rabid, _feral_ beast.

Keith let the knife clatter to the floor, blood running cold. His hands shook, as he raised them to his face.

He had nearly killed him.

He had nearly killed _Lance._

He couldn't stop the tremor in his shoulders, the dry soundless sobs.

This was why no one ever stayed.

 _'I should have had you put down.'_ a vicious echo in his head.

_'You're worth nothing but trouble.'_

_'No wonder he's alone.'_

What was _wrong_ with him?

* * *

 

One second, he had his hand on Keith's back, the other he was being yanked forward roughly by the collar, knife held to his throat; furious modena eyes burning holes into his head.

Suddenly, Keith's hand under his pillow no longer seemed quite so innocent or cute.

It screamed of paranoia, as did the half-crazed, far-away look in his eyes.

He wasn't completely there; caught in either memory or nightmare, Lance couldn't tell. 

 _"Keith?"_ Lance couldn't help asking, unable to suppress the very real fear of having a lethal dagger at his throat.

Keith came to himself, almost instantly; eyes widening in horror, face paling, knife clattering to the floor.

He was shaking violently, as he swung his knees over the side of the bed, and dropped his face into trembling hands.

Lance was frozen as he noticed the way soundless sobs wracked Keith's frame.

"Keith?" he asked softly, and a deaf man would have heard the concern in his voice.

Keith stiffened, stilling immediately.

Lance felt something in his heart twist; guilt and sorrow pressing down on his throat, replacing the dagger with a very different knife.

That reaction had not been one of a perfect boy with a perfect life. It had been visceral, and gut-wrenchingly real, and speaking volumes of a terror and desperation Lance didn't understand.

All he knew was that he had misjudged Keith; on natural born talent, and stand-offish reserve, without considering the implications.

 _'You don't know me.'_ , Keith had said, and Lance had scoffed at him. Of-course he had known Keith, wonder boy, Iverson's prodigal son.

Lance had bitterly blamed the others for not seeing him, but he had also done just the same.

He realized Keith was right; he _didn't_ know him.

He didn't understand even a little, what had happened, and Lance knew, instinctively, that Keith wouldn't tell him; but he promised himself he would listen to what was left unsaid, because the fear in Keith's eyes, the horror of nearly having hurt him was undeniable.

He kept his voice intentionally soft, but casual. "That's no way of thanking someone for waking you up, buddy."

Lance pretended not to notice how Keith's shoulders sagged with relief; judging by the way he had flinched, when Lance had opened his mouth, he wondered if Keith had expected yelling or accusations.

He reached over to pat his shoulder, pretending to also not notice how Keith tracked the movement from the corner of his eyes. "Shiro wants us in the bay."

Keith nodded, hands lowering from his face, elbows now on his knees. He still didn't look up at Lance, or say a single word.

Lance forced his voice extra cheerful, extra provoking, when he called out over his shoulder "And to tell you to get a haircut. The 80's called, they want their mullet back."

Keith smiled at that, relief bypassing any affront he may have felt in any other circumstance; it was a tiny little thing that made Lance's heart ache.

Who _was_ Keith Kogane, really?

It was past time to find out.

* * *

 


	2. Funny You’re The Broken One But I’m The Only One Who Needed Saving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was funny that they didn’t see how they had it backwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was kind of born from the headcanon, that being so in the limelight at (and from) a younger age may have caused Shiro to become less kind in how he dealt with people; being sharp and vicious in hopes someone would snap back instead of just continuing to idolize him for his reputation (in short quite unlike himself as canon revealed much after i wrote and hypothesized this scenario. still i am fond of this possibility, and although i never quite got around to writing it in less vague terms, its hinted at in this drabble) 
> 
> This was mostly jotted down, and left to gather dust (how ironic/ appropriate) in the recesses of my written archives.  
> Its only been let out to alleviate the writer's block i seem to be facing. Most of this was written somewhere after s2. Except for the obvious s3 reference in that quote which just seemed a nice way to leave it. Some of it alludes to the sentiment of s4/s5 where Kuron complicates matters, but nothing explicit. I suppose the wording could point fingers at season 6 too, but its mostly amusing coincidence.
> 
> anyway, just a mild musing, nothing special. Hope you enjoy the Sheithy goodness (romantic or platonic; whichever way you wanna read it) in Shiro POV/ musing/ monologue. (however you classify this)

* * *

What most people assumed when they witnessed Shiro and Keith together, was that the latter was a near-feral boy the former had tamed.

They thought they knew…

That Shiro had saved _Keith_.

It was funny that they didn’t see how they had it backwards.

Keith might have been alone, and angry at the world, but he had had all the world’s talent at the tips of his fingers and a spirit forged unbreakable in fire. He had the drive to get back up; no matter how hard he fell, no matter what life threw at him while he was down. He was fiercely independent, and so easy to respect in his resolve.

Especially when Shiro found his own impossible to sustain.

Takashi Shirogane was known and respected, sure, but no one saw him beyond their idealization, no one seemed to see how he struggled. No one seemed to care just because he was good at covering it with a smile.

* * *

 Really, Keith had saved _Shiro_ when he’d been so close to giving up.

* * *

 

They just saw the golden boy. They never bothered to see past that.

Never to the truth of Takashi, buried under layers and layers of masks, facades, veneers.

Shiro was a liar and a great one at that- he cared so little some days, that he’d say things just to try to get someone to snap at him; no one ever did. Instead, they were polite and kind and played for his favour.

(It made him feel hollow, energy and unkindness wasted; unnoticed; unseen)

It was a sham- _he_ was a sham- and he hated it.

Keith was the only one who snarled back when Shiro said unfair things, covered in pretty smiles. His impossible eyes narrowed with suspicion, and his mouth twisted and hardened, and he said whatever he had to say, with zero remorse.

Shiro admired that.

More than he could say, so Shiro encouraged by action when he could, and by silent support.

When his words felt sufficient, he spoke, and Keith tilted his head as if to filter out the bullshit, but listened.

As Shiro relearned sincerity, Keith seemed to relearn how to smile.

(He didn’t realize till much later, how much Keith remembered… rare sincerity committed to memory)

Keith flourished, and while he never fully stepped into the limelight Shiro had grown to feel trapped by, whenever Shiro needed him, he was the indomitable shield to provide him shade.

Of all the things Shiro was grateful for- and he _was_ the thankful sort, no matter how warped his situation had left him- Keith was at the top of the list.

* * *

 

And so it went, time and again, Keith stepping forward to take the brunt of Shiro’s failings. Never complaining, never protesting, and never faltering.

Always there to save him.

_Shiro_ ; Keith’s eternally laughable damsel in distress.

No matter what Shiro shoved at him, Keith shouldered it with a softness seemingly reserved for him.

It hurt something deep within Shiro, every time Keith curtailed himself to accommodate the mould Shiro had unwittingly set out for him.

Never complaining, unlike Shiro.

Keith was a shooting star, and Shiro had become the tail, lingering, slowing him down.

Keith never stopped hanging on.

Not even when it put his own life at risk.

Shiro didn’t know what he had done to deserve it, but Keith was the only thing he wanted to keep.

Takashi, the selfish man underneath, just wanted one thing.

To become the man he saw reflected in Keith’s striking eyes.

To be worthy of that truth.

* * *

  _“Hey Keith.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“How many times will you have to save me before this is over?”_

_“As many times as it takes.”_

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments?
> 
> Come say hi [@theincrediblesulkmachine](http://theincrediblesulkmachine.tumblr.com/) on tumblr

**Author's Note:**

> This is supposed to be set somewhere in the first few days of Voltron and outer space, where everyone is still on edge and not so familiar with each other. They're still getting to know each other past their misconceptions, which is why its all far more stilted, and barbed.
> 
> Hope that conveyed itself. Lots of implications there, i would love to hear what you think.
> 
> Be kind enough to leave comments and kudos?


End file.
